


A knight and his lady fair

by cassiemortmain



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fluff, Mild Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-11-29 16:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiemortmain/pseuds/cassiemortmain
Summary: A collection of short Annamis fics - mainly fluffy, all romantic, celebrating this lovely ship.





	1. Sunday morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some time after season 3 ends, Aramis and Anne are alone together one morning..

His hand ran down her cheek, then curled around her chin to draw her face to his. His beard tickled her and she felt her mouth curve into a smile as she returned his kiss. She couldn’t help it. 

“If only we could stay here for a little longer… ” she sighed.

“Your ladies will be in to wake you soon and get you ready for Mass with the King. If they catch me here…” He kissed the tip of her nose.

“I know… I must do my duty. As Regent I have to be seen by the people, so they know that the kingdom is in safe hands until Louis grows up.” She looked into his eyes. “Our son, the King. How strange and wonderful it is, to be able to say that to you.”

He put his finger to her lips. “As long as I’m the only one you ever say it to, Your Majesty.”

“Please, won’t you call me by my name? When we are together like this. You know how I love it.”

“Anna, mi amor…” He kissed her again, pulling her close, running his fingers down her spine and making her shiver. The kiss deepened as she put her arms around his neck, moving on top of him and letting the veil of her hair surround them.

One kiss turned to two, to half a dozen, caresses given and received with joy. Then, he rolled her onto her back, leaning up on one hand beside her as his other hand continued to trace over her body.

“May I ask a question of my own?”

“Of course, anything.”

His hand slid down to her belly and rested there.

“Is there something you should be telling me?”

“How did you…?”

“Mi perla, do you really think I didn’t know? As your First Minister, it is my sacred duty to be aware of everything that relates to the safety and security of France.”

She reached up to smooth a stray curl away from his face, her fingers tangling in his hair as their eyes locked.

“You make me happier than I ever dared to believe I could be,” he murmured.

His gaze reminded her of when he was still a Musketeer, staring at her intensely enough to burn through to her soul. Her heart raced, her breath caught, her skin flushed. Just as it had then. Just as she knew it always would, when he was around.

“Aramis, if only we could tell the truth. I want the world to know we are married, that I carry your child.”

“Not long now. We agreed…a couple more months, until your year of mourning is officially over. For Louis’ sake – we don’t want him to think we aren’t showing the late King, the man he believes to be his father, the proper respect.”

“And then?”

He nodded. “And then, we quietly tell those who need to know. It’s not unheard of… don’t forget there was a Queen of England who married again after her husband died, to the Keeper of her Wardrobe no less.”

“Oh yes, she was a French Princess, wasn’t she? Of the old line.”

“That’s right. If she can do it…”

“And then we can be together, just like any other normal married couple?”

“Yes... well, almost.” He grinned at her. “Not every married couple is raising the King of France!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This show is set during a fascinating time in history, which is one of the things I love about it. 
> 
> I referenced Queen Catherine, the young widow of Henry V of England who really did marry a gentleman of her court - apparently they met when he fell, very drunk, into her lap. They had several children together and went on to found a royal dynasty of their own - the gentleman’s name was Owen Tudor.
> 
> Catherine herself was a Valois - the old line of French royalty Anne refers to. After many years of bitter religious wars and the failure of that family to produce a male heir, a new line, the Bourbons, took over the rule of France with Henry IV, the father of Louis XIII, their first King. When Henry, a Protestant, was eventually offered the crown but was told he had to convert to Catholicism to get it, he famously said “Paris vaut une messe,” ie Paris is worth a Mass.
> 
> I plan this will be the start of a new collection of short Annamis fics - I’ve been rewatching the show recently and have quite a few ideas already! Feel free to send me a prompt if you’d like to... I always love to get inspiration from fellow shippers.


	2. Break her promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short drabble inspired by episode 2.04. Queen Anne gets ready to leave Emilie's tent but Aramis has other ideas.

One chance to be alone with her – and he took it. As she made her way towards the tent’s exit, he put his arm out to stop her leaving, letting his hand come to rest on her hip.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he cautioned.

She dropped her eyes, seeming to acknowledge that he was right. “I will always serve my country. But perhaps this time I was unwise.”

“Foolish is the… better word.”

She smiled, moving forward. “You are talking to your Queen, Aramis.” Her hand came up to rest on his chest, and he wondered if she could feel his heart racing even through his leather doublet.

“I know,” he whispered.

Her closeness, the scent of her, the soft curve of her cheek, sent a wave of intense longing sweeping over him. He fought to resist her, to resist his own desire, closing his eyes with the effort.

“We promised each other…”

She came nearer still, her lips only a breath away from his. “A Queen is allowed to break her promises…”

It seemed only natural to bridge the space between them as he dropped his head to kiss her.

She sighed and pressed herself to him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close as he could. One hand circled her waist, while the other slid up to cradle the back of her head, tangling in her long hair.

Heat came rushing up into his face, leaving him breathless and lightheaded. His senses were filled with her, each sensation acute, piercing his soul like a dagger. Her tongue touching his, the swell of her breasts beneath the plain robe she wore, her hips moving against him, everything reminded him of that other time. That time which he knew could never be repeated.

And yet… a low groan escaped him as he tightened his embrace, deepening their kiss still further, feeling her response, her body yielding and eager. In one moment more, all could be lost… and found.

He didn’t even notice the fabric of the tent come open. It was her who pulled away from him as Constance’s shocked face appeared.

The young woman had seen everything. Not just their kiss but also the expressions on their faces. The passion that had reared up again between them, all the fiercer because they had both fought so hard to lock it away forever, written there unmistakably for anyone with an eye to see. And Constance had missed nothing.

A look lingered between them, before she walked outside to speak with her companion. He couldn’t help but hear what was said next.

“You know all my secrets now. You carry my life in your hands.”

 _Mine too…_ he thought.

Aramis knew that, if his love for the Queen were ever discovered, he would suffer the appalling death of a traitor. But still – despite everything, despite all the barriers that existed between them, he was drawn to her by a force unlike any he’d experienced before.

No other woman had ever possessed him, heart and soul, as she did. And he already knew that none ever would.


	3. You're not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A missing moment fic, set straight after the scene between Aramis and Anne at the end of season 3, episode 6.

She’d learned so much.

The shocking news of her husband’s impending death, news he’d failed to share with her. The realisation that Louis now knew the true identity of her child’s father.

And she’d remembered so much.

The strength of Aramis' arms as he'd wrapped them around her. The warmth of the kiss he'd pressed to her fingers, the first touch between them in so long.

_You are not alone…_

His words swirled around in Anne’s mind as she felt her eyes brimming over.

He seemed to sense her unspoken longing. In the echoing dark, his footsteps slowed, stopped.

Then they became louder.

He was coming back.

When he reached her, she looked up at him. He lifted one hand to her face, wiping the falling drops away with a soft fingertip.

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he murmured.

She felt herself moving towards him. He was her sanctuary, she knew that now – his embrace the one place she could feel safe.

He pulled her closer, his lips touching the top of her head, then her hairline. His nearness made her breath catch in her throat as she twined her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shoulder.

His hand came up to stroke her hair, then moved to caress the back of her neck. She could feel his heart beating beneath the rough linen of his shirt, which made her own pulse race.

For a moment, then another, they were as one. The years that had parted them set at naught. Knowing they could not stay, longing to hold on to each other for a little longer.

When he gently pulled away, she could see the tears standing in his eyes too as her gaze locked with his.

“Whatever happens, whatever is to come… I’d die to protect you. You know that.” His voice rough, his dark stare intense, the courage of a soldier written across his face.

She knew he was ready to fight for her, as he’d done before. Against the whole world if he had to.

“I must go. If you need me, I promise … I’ll be there. No matter what.”

A final squeeze of her hand in his, and then he was gone.

As she watched him leave, she felt her spine straighten, her face set. She could be brave too, for their son, for him. For the future of France.

She had no other choice.


End file.
